about my willingness to make further contributions.
David was more irate than I was. Not as much at the unwelcome callers as at me for the chaos that had been brought into our lives. The charities, solicitors and con artists were just doing what they do, but I had brought this on us. And I had never really been able to explain my motives to him. Now we had strangers, often unpleasant strangers, intruding on our privacy day and night.
With his parents beside him, David finally confronted me. We were having a cocktail together beside their pool before going for an evening at the club.
“This whole business is some kind of craziness,” he said. “You are just not acting like yourself.”
“I am myself,” I insisted. “I just feel differently about some things.”
The three original members of the Lofton family shared a look confirming my suspicion that I had already been the subject of a long and involved discussion.
“I think you ought to see a therapist,” Edith said. “Oprah is always telling us not to be afraid to reach out for help.”
David and W.D. nodded in agreement.
“That’s a great idea,” David said. “It will give you an opportunity to talk about what happened.”
“I’m surprised that you don’t have a psychiatrist already,” W.D. said. “Edith, don’t most of those women friends of yours go to shrinks?”
“They are artists,” she answered. “Of course they’re in therapy.”
“Jane, do you know someone who you can make an appointment with?” David asked.
“What about that doctor of Brynn’s you liked so well?” Edith asked.
David was shaking his head. “He turned out to be way too obsequious and permissive.”
“That won’t be a problem for Jane,” W.D. pointed out. “It’s not as if she’s easily influenced.”
“Wait a minute!” I interrupted them finally. “I haven’t said that I will see a therapist. I haven’t even thought about it.”
“Well you certainly should think about it,” Edith said.
“Really, Jane,” David agreed. “We just want you to get back to being yourself. We want our lives to be the way they always were.”
I didn’t know anymore if that was even possible.
My thoughts eventually drove me to the library. The library had always been my rescue, my haven, my source. It was at the library that I first realized that there was a life beyond the tacky ordinariness of Sunnyside. And it was the library that showed me how to purchase my ticket out. Whenever I’d faced something unfamiliar, whether it was the Graduate Record Exam or the flatware layout at the Junior League Tea, it was there that I’d found my answers.
Truthfully, I don’t believe I would have been able to manage motherhood otherwise. Not only had the library furnished every possible type of reading material on child rearing, it was the clearinghouse for hundreds of short courses, workshops and children’s activities that had filled Brynn’s early years.
So, with my thoughts in a whirl and my curiosity as strong as my determination, I made my way through the flocks of noisy children and chairs full of homeless people toward the reference desk at the public library. And before you could say altruism, I was up to my eyeballs in Comte and Aquinas, Locke and Hegel. Is there such a thing as a truly altruistic act? Is it the nature of man to do good or to be self-serving?
I read and read and read some more, but the answers justdidn’t come. The more knowledge I accumulated the less clear my understanding. The whole thing just gave me a headache. I’m not a philosopher, I’m a Realtor. I just needed to sell someone a great house that would keep their family safe and comfortable for a decade, that’s all the good I knew how to do.
I threw myself into my work. I had made some contributions. I had done some good. That was all I had promised. I’d delivered. Anyone in town could tell you, Jane Lofton doesn’t make deals that she can’t deliver. If the nagging thought
David was more irate than I was. Not as much at the unwelcome callers as at me for the chaos that had been brought into our lives. The charities, solicitors and con artists were just doing what they do, but I had brought this on us. And I had never really been able to explain my motives to him. Now we had strangers, often unpleasant strangers, intruding on our privacy day and night.
With his parents beside him, David finally confronted me. We were having a cocktail together beside their pool before going for an evening at the club.
“This whole business is some kind of craziness,” he said. “You are just not acting like yourself.”
“I am myself,” I insisted. “I just feel differently about some things.”
The three original members of the Lofton family shared a look confirming my suspicion that I had already been the subject of a long and involved discussion.
“I think you ought to see a therapist,” Edith said. “Oprah is always telling us not to be afraid to reach out for help.”
David and W.D. nodded in agreement.
“That’s a great idea,” David said. “It will give you an opportunity to talk about what happened.”
“I’m surprised that you don’t have a psychiatrist already,” W.D. said. “Edith, don’t most of those women friends of yours go to shrinks?”
“They are artists,” she answered. “Of course they’re in therapy.”
“Jane, do you know someone who you can make an appointment with?” David asked.
“What about that doctor of Brynn’s you liked so well?” Edith asked.
David was shaking his head. “He turned out to be way too obsequious and permissive.”
“That won’t be a problem for Jane,” W.D. pointed out. “It’s not as if she’s easily influenced.”
“Wait a minute!” I interrupted them finally. “I haven’t said that I will see a therapist. I haven’t even thought about it.”
“Well you certainly should think about it,” Edith said.
“Really, Jane,” David agreed. “We just want you to get back to being yourself. We want our lives to be the way they always were.”
I didn’t know anymore if that was even possible.
My thoughts eventually drove me to the library. The library had always been my rescue, my haven, my source. It was at the library that I first realized that there was a life beyond the tacky ordinariness of Sunnyside. And it was the library that showed me how to purchase my ticket out. Whenever I’d faced something unfamiliar, whether it was the Graduate Record Exam or the flatware layout at the Junior League Tea, it was there that I’d found my answers.
Truthfully, I don’t believe I would have been able to manage motherhood otherwise. Not only had the library furnished every possible type of reading material on child rearing, it was the clearinghouse for hundreds of short courses, workshops and children’s activities that had filled Brynn’s early years.
So, with my thoughts in a whirl and my curiosity as strong as my determination, I made my way through the flocks of noisy children and chairs full of homeless people toward the reference desk at the public library. And before you could say altruism, I was up to my eyeballs in Comte and Aquinas, Locke and Hegel. Is there such a thing as a truly altruistic act? Is it the nature of man to do good or to be self-serving?
I read and read and read some more, but the answers justdidn’t come. The more knowledge I accumulated the less clear my understanding. The whole thing just gave me a headache. I’m not a philosopher, I’m a Realtor. I just needed to sell someone a great house that would keep their family safe and comfortable for a decade, that’s all the good I knew how to do.
I threw myself into my work. I had made some contributions. I had done some good. That was all I had promised. I’d delivered. Anyone in town could tell you, Jane Lofton doesn’t make deals that she can’t deliver. If the nagging thought
Similar Books
